


This Could Be The Best Year Yet

by dirtylittlegreasemonkey



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:12:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtylittlegreasemonkey/pseuds/dirtylittlegreasemonkey
Summary: Set the week of Robert's Birthday 22nd April 2019, filling in the gaps of the scenes we saw on screen. It's a big week for Robert and Aaron as they celebrate Robert's birthday, gain a surrogate and go on a night out clubbing.





	1. Monday

**Monday**

Robert is woken on Monday, Easter Bank Holiday Monday no less, not by the plinking of his phone alarm but by a hand on the back of his thigh and a warm, scratchy breath below his earlobe. The sensation of _why_ and _it’s my birthday_ come to him at the same time and the moment he opens his eyes he feels Aaron’s mouth on his neck and a hello-pulse in his underwear.

“Happy Birthday,” Aaron says, caught between a breath and a kiss. He smiles down and Robert rolls onto his back even though it means losing the tickle of hot fingers across his arse. He rubs a hand across his face and shuts his eyes again, neck craning for a kiss on the mouth.

There’s a bit of friction, legs forking and sliding together and Robert’s already trying to temper his semi, hands seeking Aaron’s waist under the duvet. What he wouldn’t give to get his mouth down there, in all those dark corners of his body. Aaron stretches up the bed and this would be Robert’s prime opportunity to climb on top of him and prove his new age is nothing but a number. He whips his underwear off and delights at the cool press of sheets on his backside.

Aaron smirks at him and snakes an arm around his neck. “Don’t get too excited,” he says. “Breakfast is downstairs. I got in stuff especially.” Aaron must know what he’s thinking, because he pre-empts it. “And I’m not having it go to waste like last year. We didn’t even get out of bed until three in the afternoon.”

Robert crumples, pushing his face into the crook of Aaron’s neck. Something must work. Whether it’s the slow whine, the emotional blackmail of it being his birthday or maybe it’s the soft and deliberate way Robert threads over the hair at the back of Aaron’s neck. Or runs his thumb over the thin skin at Aaron’s wrist and won’t let up from looking at him. But something changes and Robert finds himself propped on his elbows, breathing through his teeth, sweat prickling across his chest, and an Aaron shaped lump under the covers, sucking him off before he’s even had a chance to shower off last night’s fug of sex.

*

They agreed no presents this year, being that they are saving to pay for the surrogacy. Truth is – as cheesy as it sounds – that there is nothing Robert needs that he doesn’t already have, despite obviously that first hold of a new-born that has Aaron’s eyes and mouth, but they’re working on that. Aaron is good at birthdays, in the same soft yet nonchalant way he is about everything. He knows what Robert loves, and wants, and provides it without fuss. So there is smoked salmon for breakfast, with avocado and sourdough and salted butter. There is freshly brewed coffee with the Italian blend he likes from David’s and the supermarket’s best orange juice. It’s grown up – classy – but not in ways that feel forced and stuffy. Not how he might have spent his birthday five years ago. They wear unwashed pyjamas and talk with their mouths open and brush crumbs onto the floor. He licks a butter smear from his thumb and tells Aaron he loves him. And Aaron says it back and they are so fucking happy he feels weightless.

But Aaron has gone against the no presents rule (Robert was gladly ready to accept sex as a gift) and presents him with the green tea and honey bath stuff he loves in a gift box, complete with bow. He’s already given him a card upstairs after the blow job and they’d just laid there, sweat-spread and content. He didn’t needed anything more, but this is a welcome bonus. Then, with expert timing, Diane interrupts and put a dampener on their plans to spend at least five hours in every position conceivable for his age. Aaron has already made all the jokes when they were in bed before breakfast. “It’ll be missionary only soon. And hand jobs until the arthritis kicks in.” Robert told him to stop putting an expiry date on their sex life and vowed to knacker Aaron before he could make any more ‘old man’ jokes.

And when Diane buggers off, Robert follows Aaron upstairs and strips him out of his pyjamas and sits on the edge of the bed to beckon him forward and maps his stomach with his hands, kissing him inch by inch. Aaron hunches over and pulls off Robert’s t-shirt over his head and rakes fingers through the back of Robert’s hair until it’s electric, then knees up onto the bed to sit astride him and unbalance them both so that Robert is forced horizontal. They laugh, big gut-shaking laughs until Robert puts his hand on Aaron’s cheek and lets his palm be kissed and then the mood drifts into something more serious, more intimate and Robert knows the only thing he wants is to worship him.

“Do we have to, really? To the pub?” Robert says, his nose flattened against Aaron’s hip bone, his thumb just there, paused on the underside of Aaron’s cock. He kisses the skin where the hair rises in a shiver and knows his breath is enough to make Aaron dizzingly hard.

Aaron groans a little, pushing Robert’s head away and hitching his breath, defeated, when Robert’s attention startles straight back and this time, his mouth opens up and takes Aaron in whole.

“Easy, easy,” Aaron says and Robert knows why, because he can read him like a book – always has done – knows the slight change in his shoulders, in a glance. He’ll shrug and he’ll huff and pretend he’s the most indifferent, do-what-you-like-nothing-to-do-with-me bloke, but his wants and needs colour him. He doesn’t want a quick and impatient blow job to stunt the morning. He wants to be fucked. And touched, later, in the shower, when he can hide his face through the steam and with his forehead pressed against the wall. He wants Robert exhausted on his stomach, pinked up from the heat of running water, and Aaron wants to do to him what he never used to imagine himself doing, when sex was something shameful and terrifying.

And Robert wants all of this too, because he wants whatever Aaron does. Simple as that.

So he takes his mouth away, pressing his skin-salted lips together, leaving Aaron half-wanting, eyes almost black and wet and moulds him onto his front, all fours. He puts his hand over Aaron’s fist of bedsheets and swallows the knuckles with his large grip, murmuring _Aaron Aaron Aaron_ , as he passes his lips down his spine, down the centre of him, until Aaron’s buck of pelvis lets him know he’s ready, so ready.

*

His birthday lunch is a mess of noise, Sambuca and cake, but he’s never felt more loved. He tore Diane’s card open before they left for the pub, so at lunch he can thank her for the sweet words inside a card that read _Happy Birthday Handsome_ on the front. Aaron had teasingly asked who she meant, which was a bad joke coming from someone who’d unsubtly been eyeing him up when he was fresh from the shower.

After all those shots his face feels numb and his ears a bit hollow, but it’s enough to mute the stories Diane tells about his birthdays of past, which on her memories mostly involve him getting stroppy or vomiting everywhere. Vic tries to remember more of their childhood birthdays but it strays dangerously into territories of sad reminiscing about Andy and their parents so they talk about Natalie instead, their hopes for tomorrow.

“Should you really be getting this drunk if you’ve got an important chat tomorrow?” Diane says, wielding the knife to cut herself another slice of cake.

“Blame Victoria!” Robert says, pointing across the table.

Vic shakes her head, leaning across to take another shot and then pulls Liv in for a sideways hug. Robert keeps checking on Liv, knowing how hard it must be for her to watch them get drunk and have to contend with being the youngest here and with all what’s happened with Jacob. He hopes their hangovers in the morning will keep putting her off all this drinking and getting stupid. She gave him a funny card before they started eating, one with a photo of a monkey on and captioned with something cheeky, and a double photo frame.

One side was filled – a photo of the four of them, Robert, Aaron, Liv and Seb and the other side was blank.

“I know it’s a long way off,” - she said – “But I thought you could put a picture in there of the new baby.”

He hugged and hugged her until he got the feeling she wanted him to get off.

“So what’s she like, this surrogate?” Vic asks, hissing after another shot. “Apart from being – you know – _perfect_.”

“Well Faith hasn’t scared her off so that’s a positive,” Robert says, glancing over his shoulder to see if she’s lurking.

“We just got on,” Aaron says. “It’s still early days and it’s no guarantee but we’re hoping with a few more meetings…”

“I’m dead pleased for you,” Vic says.

“She’d be mad to say no to the pair of you. What more could she want, eh?” Diane says, giving Robert’s arm a squeeze. “Another grandchild!”

*

It’s late afternoon when they get home, but to Robert it feels about ten. He collapses onto the sofa and Aaron makes him a coffee, with Liv having banished herself to Gabby’s to keep out of the way of any cranky moods. They’ve come home with some wrapped up birthday cake, a bottle of wine from Chas and Paddy and restaurant vouchers from Diane so they can go to the refurbished Italian place in Hotten. Chas said she researched the wine on the internet because even as a pub landlady she has no clue what’s worth drinking and what’s vinegar, and she didn’t want to be accused of not putting any effort in with her son in law.

“Is the room spinning?” Aaron asks, moving a magazine to put the coffee down and shifting his feet so he can slump out next to him.

“Not yet,” Robert says. “But put it this way, if we spend the evening doing what I had in mind this morning, it’s not going to be pretty.” He pauses, raising his head and seeing double. “Unless there really is two of you and then I could enjoy that.”

Aaron smacks his legs.

“I’m gonna stick a film on and you’re going to try not to throw up on me, yeah?”

He tries to fight it, but he nods off during the film and then wakes up with a dribbling jolt when it gets to a loud part.

“Keeping you up, am I?”

“Leave me alone,” Robert says and tries to straighten up on the sofa and prop himself awake.

“You know, you can go to bed if you want to. It’s your birthday after all.”

“There’s only one good reason to go to bed early on your birthday and this isn’t it.” He crosses his arms. “I’ve already had enough of being 33.”

Aaron glances over, smirking to himself. “You’re right. You were much fitter at 32.”

“Ha fucking ha.”

Even though he knows it was just a joke, he can’t help but fluff up his hair, smooth out his shirt. He puts his feet on Aaron’s lap despite the protestations.

“This could be the best year yet,” Robert says. He can already see that blanket bundle in Aaron’s arms.

Aaron gives him a short smile, one that lacks conviction. He’s too wary of disappointment, of setbacks. “I don’t want to get carried away. Let’s see what tomorrow brings, yeah?”


	2. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalie comes round to The Mill to get to know Aaron and Robert better and their rollercoaster day ends in celebration.

**Tuesday**

It’s a day like he’s never had before. Lows that feel so final, so crushing, he wants to find immediate, impossible solutions. Highs that rip the air from him and steal him from the solid ground for hours on end.

It starts groggily, miserably, his mouth dried up and disgusting, plastered over the pillow. There’s no hand on his thigh this morning, no mouth angling to nuzzle him awake. He’s sure a cup of coffee was placed down next to his side of the bed a minute ago but when he gets to it it’s cold and bitter. Once he’s coerced himself out of bed, he looks in the mirror at his sorry state and finds a man who looks he’s been trampled on. Knackered. Old.

Downstairs isn’t any better. Liv and Aaron are making a racket, talking at a stupid volume. Liv has a terrible playlist on and is making a right mess attempting to make a sausage butty. The thought of anything that fatty and fried touching buttered bread is enough to make him hurl, so he offers them a vague _Morning_ and attempts to head upstairs for a shower. He’s conscious enough to see the state Aaron’s in. Not hungover, but pacing. Fidgeting with his hands. Checking his phone.

“Hey,” he says, getting Aaron’s attention. “Relax. It’s all gonna work out fine.”

There’s a bit more life in Robert once he’s showered. He makes himself a fresh coffee and rifles through their cupboard as if he’s doing an inventory. He leaves a cupboard open while he talks to Aaron.

“I think we’ve got a problem.”

Aaron springs up from the sofa, eyes wide and panicked. “What?”

“Is this the only tea we’ve got?”

Aaron shakes himself from of the stress from a moment ago. “Tea?”

“I just think we should be able to offer her a few more varieties apart from tea or coffee. Or water. It’s a bit early in the day for alcohol.”

“She’s not going to judge us on our tea selection, is she?”

“I just think it’s something we should pick up at David’s before she arrives. They say mint tea’s relaxing.”

“Who’s _they_?”

“People. You know. It’s a well-known fact.”

“Fine. Come on then. We better get some posh biscuits and more of that coffee you like. We’re out.”

They grab their coats and head to David’s, where he tries to sell them a new range of granola infusion breakfast cereals. Robert’s tempted but Aaron’s having none of it.

“Today’s the big day, is it?” David asks, scanning the fancy chocolate-dipped biscuits. “Meeting the… host… the womb mother… what’s the right term?”

“Surrogate,” Aaron says, almost giving David the daggers. “And nothing’s been decided yet.”

“I suppose it’s a bit like test driving, isn’t it?”

“It’s a bit more important than that,” Robert says. “She’s going to help us carry a child, not take us down the M1.”  

“Sorry lads, you’re right,” David says. “That was insensitive. I hope the biscuits do the trick.”

They pass Paddy on the way out and Robert can barely see through his brain-fog to strike up a conversation. It’s only when he chases them out the shop waving the tin of mint tea at them does Robert try and summon some civility. Then Natalie arrives and he sobers up sharpish.

Aaron does a quick tour of the house first and Robert’s grateful for them disappearing upstairs because it gives him the chance to neck an espresso and for Liv to start tidying up the kitchen. He thinks it probably looks good on them if they’ve managed to get a teenager to do chores, despite the fact he had to bribe her with twenty quid to clean the sink and the kitchen worktops.

Natalie seems nervous when she comes downstairs again and Robert feels the need to step in and reassure her about how grateful they both are, not just that she’s so forgiving of the nightmare antics of Faith, but about what she’s considering doing for them. He can’t keep letting himself skip ahead, but when they stop talking in hypotheticals and start talking about this baby like it’s actually happening he gets hit by a wall of elation that he can’t stop.

Natalie teases, asking them about love at first sight and Robert’s back there, four years ago. It doesn’t come with the baggage it did then, the demons and the reputation he had to preserve. It’s the feelings he remembers. The sleepless nights. Knowing he’d never be able to get Aaron out of his system, thinking about those eyes glancing at him across the room. His stomach had been liquid, his heart erratic like a teenager’s. Of course it was love at first sight – what else would you even call it?

They managed to swerve the “So how did you first meet?” question, glossing over Chrissie, the affair and finding an answer that was some sort of half-truth. They had cups of tea in their hands at that point, sat around the sofa and waiting for Liv to put the biscuits on the plate because she didn’t want to hear all the “gross” details.

“I’ve known his sister for years,” Aaron says. “But he came back to Emmerdale, fancied me and pretended his car had broken down so I’d come out and fix it.”

“Classic,” Natalie said. “So did you suss him out early on?” She hesitates, laughing a little. “Sorry, I love a bit of romance.”

Robert grins sheepishly. “Oh he knew straight away I’d faked it to get him there.”

“And then the next minute he’s kissing me.”

“Wow,” she says, giving Robert a nod which he translates as a pat on the back for being such a quick mover. “And you’re married now?”

“Almost six months,” Robert says, squeezing Aaron’s hand.

Aaron clears his throat, dry and nervous again. “We’ve got a wedding album if you…”

“Definitely!” she says.

They take her through the photos one by one, pointing out the various family members in the photos, Liv pointing out the close up of Aaron crying.

“Give the poor bloke a break,” Natalie says, teasing.

“Yeah Liv,” Aaron says in the way only a big brother can. “Best day of my life, that.”

Robert thinks the whole room will be able to hear the sound his heart makes at that. She asks them polite questions about the weather and the music and the suits and the vows. And then he relaxes too much. It’s the tipping point. And they should’ve stopped themselves, noticing they were on a crash course to disaster but it’s all too late because Robert’s sitting there staring at their wedding photos hearing a doctor’s voice in his head saying _Mr Sugden? Mr Dingle? It’s a little girl_. Or boy. He doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. But he’s letting himself think about this as it all comes crashing down around him.

*

When they get the text from Chas saying Natalie’s in the pub, his whole head is white noise. When they’d been stood at the doorway of the flat watching her face fall, watching their dreams slip away, Robert had felt like a child, wanting to cling onto her legs and beg her not to leave. It had felt so close. He’d let himself believe. But as Aaron stewed and fell into a dark, fatalistic place, Robert was already thinking of Plan Bs, new approaches to finding a surrogate. Lying about their past if they had to. It didn’t matter if she found out the truth eventually, just as long as the paperwork was signed. History was history and theirs might’ve been chequered but they would love this child like no one else could.

And then they almost have another chance, Faith had convinced Natalie to change her mind, but Liv and Aaron’s tempers boil over and they’re back to square one, back in The Mill, back to the drawing board.

Robert tries to talk to Aaron about it, about attending another meeting, but he shuts him down saying he doesn’t want to talk about it. He slopes off upstairs and Robert goes up to talk to him a little while later when he knows enough time has passed. He’s laying on top of the duvet listening to music from the tinny speaker on his phone like he’s a teenager. Robert sits on the end of the bed.

“I took my shoes off first,” Aaron says.

Robert smiles. “I did notice.”

He switches off the music and sits up against the headboard. “I’m not giving up,” he says. “I know that’s what you think I’m gonna say, but I’m not. We’ve all done things we regret, but that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve the chance to have a baby. Not when we want one so much.”

“Agreed,” Robert says. “I’m glad you don’t want to give up. Because I’m not gonna let you. We always knew it was going to be difficult, but when have we ever let that stop us, eh?”

Aaron presses the heel of his hand into the corners of his eyes to stop himself crying. “If Natalie’s not the one…”

“Then she’s not the one. We’ll find someone else. Someone just as perfect. And by the time the little ‘un arrives all this will be ancient history.”

He leans over and kisses Aaron on the mouth. “D’you fancy tea at the pub? My treat?”

*

On the way to the pub the three of them bump into Natalie. She should be long gone and a part of Robert resents her for standing there like she hasn’t just broken their spirit. But then she speaks and Robert questions everything, wonders if he’s hallucinating. She says she’ll be their surrogate, that she’s sure, that she has no reservations, that she’ll call them tomorrow.

Robert can barely process it before the three of them are hugging. He’s breathless, heart bouncing from his stomach to his throat and he squeezes his family until their giddy. Liv slips free and Robert plants a kiss on Aaron’s mouth when they’re still smiling and their teeth bash and he feels like the whole world just opened up. There’s no way he can stop smiling.

They practically barrel into the pub, as if they’re completely wasted and Chas is behind the bar looking at them as if they have multiple heads. Aaron and Liv grab a table and do their insufferably twee secret handshake thing and Robert leans on the bar until he’s almost floating on air, ordering a bottle of champagne, a fizzy orange and three food menus.

“Okay…” Chas says, hand still firmly on her hip. “Out with it. Are you going to tell us what’s going on?”

“She said yes,” Robert says, gasping to get the words out. “Natalie. She’s changed her mind. She wants to be our surrogate.”

Heads from the back of the pub turn hearing Chas’s squeal and she joins in on the champers, but there’s no one to cover so she clinks her glass from behind the bar, grinning whenever she catches their eye.

“So your mum’s pleased,” Robert says.

“She’s getting carried away.”

“Just let her be excited before you go all doom and gloom on us, yeah?”

“There’s a long way to go.”

“Robert, will you shake some sense into him?” Liv says. “You’re gonna have a baby! If you can’t get excited then what’s the point?”

“She’s right, there,” Robert says and lays his hand over Aaron’s. “We’re going to have a baby!”

*

The euphoria lasts long into the night. When they get home Robert texts Vic and Diane with the good news and Liv camps out in her bedroom making a very pointed remark that she’s going to watch a film, _with_ her headphones on.

It’s early but they’re in bed, lights dimmed, Aaron’s head on Robert’s warm chest, Robert’s chin resting on the top of Aaron’s head.

“I can hear you thinking,” Robert says. “It’s all whirring around in there.”

“Sorry,” Aaron says. “I was just thinking about where we go from here.”

Robert’s fingers trail his waist, stopping at his hip bone and making a home there, splayed and content. “I can think of a few suggestions.”

“Behave,” he says. “And I can feel that.”

Robert smirks, releasing a low, throaty chuckle. He could happily get himself off just like this. A bit of friction, a bit of dirty talk. But Aaron had fingered him earlier and promised the full show so he wasn’t about to waste that on a quick wank.

“Will you stop thinking about IVF and every which way this might go wrong? She’s said yes. There’s no pressure. We make a plan, we get our finances sorted. We find a donor. You do you business in cup and nine months later our dreams come true.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Nothing worth having comes easy. I should know.”

“Except you,” Aaron says, deadpan until there’s a glint in his eyes, turning back his head to look up at Robert. “You come pretty easily.”

“Oh yeah?” he says. “You wanna give it a try?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for ending on a fade to black moment in this chapter. I can promise sexier times in the next chapters!


	3. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron and Robert bask, and worry, in the news that Natalie agreed to be their surrogate.

**Wednesday**

It’s three am. He knows because he rolls over and checks his phone. It tells him he has just under three and a half hours before he has an early start for a meeting, then a business appointment with the bank in Skipdale. He puts his phone down and rubs over his face, clearing his head of dreams. It was another weird one. Chasing a child around the garden until there was no child at all but an empty space. He’s sure a psychologist would have a field day. Fear – that’s what it usually is.

“Can’t sleep?” comes Aaron’s voice beside him, thick, and deeper than ever.

Robert rolls to face him. “I’m okay,” he says. “And you?”

He makes a funny smile, props an elbow up on the pillow and exhales. They’re close enough in the bed so that Robert thinks he can feel Aaron’s heartbeat. It’s racing. They slept naked tonight, too knackered after sex to bother with anything else. It’s a bit of an error in case the alarm goes off or there’s a break in or an emergency but it wasn’t the time to worry about that. Robert puts his hand on the centre of Aaron’s chest and sure enough, his heart is wild.

“I just had a dream,” Aaron says. He stops short of saying anything else and pushes his mouth against Robert’s. A moan slips out and surprises them both, jolts the kiss to a stop. Aaron’s erection brushes against Robert’s leg and the look he gives Robert is somewhere between a confirmation and a snigger.

“Tell me.”

There’s something about the early hours, the pitch black of their bedroom, speaking into the dark as if it has no consequence, can stave away any blushes. He can get Aaron’s mouth to say things he’d never say in daylight. He can get him to beg, to ask, to instruct, to confess. They can talk fear in the dead of night. They can clear an argument. They can do anything.

He kisses Robert on the collar bone, breathes into his neck.

“It was good?” Robert asks, trying to coerce it out of him. He’s awake now, his heart racing too. “What did we do?” He wants details so he can relive it too. Was he inside Aaron? Who came first? Was it fast? Slow and sensual?

“It was weird. Because it was us, now. But it was as if it was the start. Across a room, just staring at each other. A dark room full of strangers. And I knew you…I wanted you.”

Robert hears the shift in Aaron’s breathing, can feel a movement like Aaron’s rubbing himself against the bed. He stops him, hand on hip, then fist around him, jerking him off as he speaks. “Then what?”

Aaron exhales as if he’s settling into the rhythm. “It was like one of those dreams where we just couldn’t get to each other. Always someone in the way. Always just missing you. Then somehow we were outside. It was the back of the pub, except it wasn’t the same.” He pauses there, gives a strangled groan, puts a hand on Robert’s wrist to slow him down.

“I told you we should go home, but then I…”

Robert’s touching himself now. He brings Aaron’s leg over his own and presses his fingers between the crease in Aaron’s backside, still warm and slick from earlier. He feels Aaron tense and push his cock harder into Robert’s grip.

“We…”

Robert manoeuvres them across the bed until the head of his cock digs against Aaron’s opening in a tease that throws Aaron’s head back. It’s enough to have Robert leaking pre-come and biting whatever bedsheet his mouth can find.

“You did me against the wall,” Aaron says.

Robert groans, the words out loud confirming what he wanted to hear.

“People could’ve caught us.” Aaron closes his eyes, bites down on his mouth to stunt the noise.

“Maybe we wanted them to.”

Robert thrusts into him, taking a clammy handful of his arse cheek and baring his teeth against Aaron’s neck. He quickens his pace, knowing Aaron’s near the edge, knowing this must have been how it was in his dream for him to wake up damp and wanting.

Aaron throws his arms up above them, hitting the wall and making fists and coming over his own stomach, and Robert finishes a minute after, crying against Aaron’s skin like every nerve has been obliterated.

He chucks Aaron a pack of wipes after and staggers out of bed for the bathroom. When he comes back, Aaron’s fast asleep, the peach of his arse taking up more than his fair share of the bed. Robert kisses his shoulder, strokes his arse and tells him goodnight – even if he can’t hear.

*

At six thirty the alarm goes off and he vacates the bed diligently, heading for a shower before he’s even conscious of his own name. Everything aches after last night, but pleasingly so. When he dresses, Aaron opens an eye.

“Don’t trouble yourself Sleeping Beauty,” Robert says, the elastic of his underwear pulled into place.

“Wasn’t planning to,” he says. “You gone all day?”

“Back for a late tea. Text Natalie to call us for seven.”

A faint smile plays on Aaron’s face. He can be unfiltered at this time. Freer.

“Still can’t believe it, you know,” Aaron says. “I can’t wait until it really starts happening.”

“It’s going to be perfect. Everything for this baby is going to be perfect,” Robert says. “It’ll have your eyes and my charisma and the whole world better watch out.”

Aaron snorts. “Not your arrogance.”

“He or she can be whatever they want to be. They’re ours. They get a free reign.”

Aaron grins. “Our baby.”

“Our. Baby.”

He can steal a kiss as long as it doesn’t lead to anything more. So he does, and leaves Aaron back to the land of nod.

*

Jimmy spends half the day updating him on Nicola’s’ campaign trail and Robert can just about manage a _Fascinating_ every now and then just to shut him up. But the meetings go well and they’ve just enough time for a coffee before the bank.

“So how’s it all going with the baby making?” Jimmy asks, returning from the counter and carrying their plates to the table. Robert likes to delegate when he gets the chance. Plus he tells Jimmy he’s older so he’s got the greater risk of heart problems, and therefore he needs to keep on his feet. It’s a nice café. Not the greasy trucker’s place Jimmy wanted to go to, but somewhere that has a sandwich variety other than just ham and cheese.

“You know how biology works, right?” Robert says, raising an eyebrow and pocking his phone. While he was waiting for Jimmy in the queue he’d googled baby-grows for new-borns with two dads and felt his heart clamour. He saved a few. He wanted to send one to Aaron but didn’t want him to start scratching over the what-ifs again. He thought about buying one and keeping it in a drawer, but that sort of thing is considered bad luck and they need all the help they can get.

“Nothing stopping you practicing though, is there?” Jimmy says with a grin. Robert never thought he’d be discussing gay sex with Jimmy King over a BLT but here they are. He’s probably been on the internet again.

“We met with the surrogate yesterday and so far so good. She said yes.”

“Well that’s brilliant news! Good on you mate! I’m dead pleased for you.”

“Calm down, Jimmy. She’s not even pregnant yet.”

“So how does it all work? Is it a turkey baster job or…?”

Robert put down his sandwich, giving Jimmy a stare.

“Sorry.”

“We need to find an egg donor first. And that’s expensive. Natalie won’t be the biological mother, she’ll be carrying for us. We’ve already decided that Aaron’s going to be the sperm donor, but as soon as the paperwork’s all signed then it’s both of ours, legally.”

“No chance she’s going to run off with it, then.”

“Thanks.”

“I was only saying.”

“Yes, and it’s a bit of a sore point. I’ve already lost access to one child, I don’t need the reminder that I could lose another.”

“Sorry,” Jimmy says. He offers him a crisp as if it’s a sort of peace offering and for some reason Robert takes it.

“I just hate that it’s so difficult,” Robert says. “I’d give anything to have a baby with Aaron. I just want things to go right.”

Jimmy’s phone flashes and from his seat Robert sees the screen light up with Nicola’s name. He sees his own name in the message. It says: _Don’t forget to ask Robert about LGBT votes_.

Jimmy clears his throat, looks between the phone and Robert’s face. He pushes his finger around inside the crisp packet and tries to make himself sound casual. And fails.

“So, um, speaking as a…”

“A what?”

“A _bisexual_ man. What would you say are the local issues that matter to you the most? Just out of curiosity like.”

“What, like, leather parties and strip clubs?”

“Forget I mentioned it…”

“You can tell Nicola that she can have my vote if she stops exploiting communities to try and make a name for herself.”

Jimmy texts back saying: Robert says he’ll vote for you if you leave him alone.

*

Aaron’s kiss tastes of beer when Robert gets in.

“Started without me?” Robert says. “Beer breath.”

“I went to the pub and bought gran a G&T. To say thanks, sort of.”

“It was a pretty backwards way of helping,” Robert says, moving into the kitchen space and indicating to the chopping board. “Need any help?”

It’s a stir fry. They share the chopping and Robert fills in Aaron about his day and Aaron talks about a hectic day at the scrapyard. He arrived to find a load of Nicola’s campaign leaflets stuffed under the door.

“D’you know she’d written _Nicola King for Gay Rights_ on the bottom of one of them in permanent marker?”

“Don’t,” Robert says. “I’ve already had to reassure Jimmy I’d vote for her, just to give five minute’s peace from listening to her manifesto.”

He hears the satisfying fizz of the wok and reaches across Aaron for the sesame oil. There’s a brief lull of conversation and then Aaron rests his hand on the small of his back. Robert knows the smile he’s wearing can only be described with one word: fond.

“I feel nervous, is that stupid?”

“About ringing Natalie?”

“Yeah. I just keep having this lurch in my stomach, like what if she changes her mind?”

“I’m trying not to think about all the worst case scenarios but…”

“It’s hard.”

“We’ve just got to keep focused on the end goal. Once we’ve sorted out the finances and the donor…”

“It’ll be worth it, won’t it?”

Robert takes a step back from the pan, his hand finding Aaron’s waist. “Of course it will. It’s gonna be amazing.”

*

The chat with Natalie is short but satisfyingly so. It’s serious, but then it’s fun. Robert’s not sure if they find her sense of humour funnier because they’re so desperate to keep her on board or if it’s because they really do like her a lot. She confirms several times how much she respects their family loyalty and love for one another. She alludes to her own tough upbringing but she doesn’t elaborate and they don’t ask either. They both have their own skeletons still hidden, after all. She asks them to thank Faith and Chas, and Aaron says he already did. Natalie says she’s partial to a gin too. They talk next steps and more general chit chat. They promise to keep her in the loop and suggest maybe another coffee sometime, somewhere outside of the village this time so she can avoid Bear’s wrestling stories at all costs.

They watch two episodes of Narcos and then Liv comes home and eats the left over stir fry and dosses around on her phone a bit in the kitchen. They both worry about her quiet moods lately, but since the Jacob incident they’ve tried to include her more, be fairer on her. No one said parenting was easy.

Before bed, when Aaron starts yawning and his sweater rises up to expose his stomach – and Robert can’t resist placing a hand there – Aaron starts as if he’s suddenly remembered something. Turns out he has.

“We’re out tomorrow night, by the way.” He grimaces, knowing it’s not exactly what Robert wants to be doing on a Thursday night. “Ellis needs some wingmen and he sort of wants to try again with Vic…”

“Do we have to?”

“He badgered me into.”

“A club night, really?”

“It sounds poncy, you’ll probably enjoy it.”

Aaron fishes a leaflet from his pocket. “We’re on the guestlist now so you can’t back out.”

“What does Ellis need you and me for?”

“Vic’s family. I think he hopes with us there she’ll see he’s worth another shot.”

“Bit tragic if you ask me. If he’s too keen that’ll put her right off.”

“That’s your technique, is it? Play hard to get?”

Robert grins. “I don’t need to play anything, mate. I just get.”

There’s a snort and an eyeroll from Aaron and then he picks himself up, drags Robert up from the sofa. “Casanova’s got nothing on you.”

 


	4. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Thursday and Aaron and Robert reluctantly get ready to go to the club. With a little detour upstairs first.

**Thursday**

By the time Thursday evening rolls around, Aaron’s enthusiasm for a night out has waned. It isn’t helped, he says, by a series of increasingly antsy conversations with Ellis about it. Robert hasn’t warmed back up to the idea of Ellis and his sister since the whole Billy mess, especially not since Ellis landed him in it with both Vic and Aaron.

“Why does he have to make it so complicated?” Aaron says over a quick tea before they head out. Nothing too heavy but enough to line their stomachs. Robert’s not sure he can manage two hangovers in the same week.

Aaron’s still talking about Ellis. “Why can’t he just tell her he likes her and ask her out?”

“Aaron Dingle: the dating expert,” Robert says dryly, waiting until Aaron has his mouthful before he can bite back.

“I’ve dated. I’ve even been out with girls.”

Robert raises his eyebrows. “Case closed.”

“Well you know Vic, she won’t want being messed around.”

“Girls like blokes who work for a it a bit,” Robert says. “Ellis is making it too easy.”

“That what he reckons too. He’s been going over and over it in the yard all day. I’m already sick of it. Watching it tonight’s gonna be painful.”

“I did say we should sack it off.” Robert doesn’t like to say, but he’s warmed up to the idea. “But, we haven’t been out for ages.”

Aaron collects up the plates and dumps them in the sink. Robert knows it’s far too tempting to stay at home, to do what they always do – drink at home, talk, sit and watch something stupid, show each other’s phones when there’s something even more stupid to look at online, have sex. Going on a night out used to mean getting wasted, pulling a stranger for a night of fun and repeating the whole charade a week later. He feels old in a club now. They’re loud and sweaty and pointless and the fun very much depends on the company, the music and the prices and by the sounds of it tonight is going to be a chore on all three elements. But he doesn’t want to be old. Doesn’t want to give into it, wants the terrible music to beat on the back of his skull until his ears ring and drink the overpriced booze and shout half a conversation.

He wants them to have some mindless fun where it’s too loud to think and worry, because Robert knows Aaron and he knows that by now the euphoric rush of Natalie saying yes to the surrogacy has been replaced by an ever-present fear of it all going wrong. Robert knows Aaron’s adding to an endless list in his head of all the ways the surrogacy could fail and all the impossible things they need to do beforehand, like raising the money in a legitimate way and preventing Natalie from realising what screw ups they both are. All things that are out of their control, despite Robert ensuring him otherwise.

And it’s not like Robert doesn’t share those worries too. It’s not like he hasn’t woken up after an anxiety dream pressed down on his chest and panicked that they were fools for even considering this. Because it is a risk, a huge one. And it could go horribly wrong and it could crush them. But the chance that it won’t? That the struggle will be worth it? That months down the line they’ll have signed all the legal stuff and finally get to hold this soft, amazing creature and call it theirs? And how can he not feel that moment in his chest every time a worry creeps in? That whatever they have to worry about will pale into insignificance when they get handed their little boy or girl for the first time. He or she will be worth all of this, worth all the pain. And when they’re old enough to understand he will explain to them just how lucky their dads are to have them.

*

Robert showers and gets dressed, puts on a new aftershave and underwear that makes him feel as if he’s going on the pull. He chooses a new shirt, one he had to hide the price ticket of, and heads downstairs to make himself a drink. Some of the others said they were meeting in the pub for pre-drinks but as Ellis said he wasn’t bothering, they followed suit. They were all sharing a taxi – or at least that was the plan.

Diane bought him a mixology set for his birthday. He isn’t exactly sure why and he’s pretty sure there is already a cocktail shaker and whisk somewhere in the messy cupboard, but while Aaron’s faffing about in the bath and getting ready, Robert knocks up something red and fruity and surprisingly delicious. He asks Liv if she wants a mocktail, but she declines.

“Are you going to be back late?” she asks, one eye on the TV. Robert hopes she’s not intending on seeing Jacob again, not after last time. But he trusts her to be smarter than that. They both do.

“With granddad up there?” Robert says, raising his eyes to the ceiling, to Aaron clunking about up there. “Not likely.”

Liv grins. “If you get him to dance you better film it.”

Robert scoffs, blowing out his cheeks. “I’m afraid that was a once in a lifetime spectacle.”

Aaron comes down moments later looking every bit “can’t be arsed.” He’s not even put on a fresh pair of jeans and the jumper is shapeless on him. Robert marches him back upstairs, listening to the grumbles as they go.

“What’s wrong with it?”

Robert ignores him for a minute, stripping out of his leather jacket and opening up drawers and the wardrobe doors as if he means business.

“It does nothing for you,” Robert says. “Not on a night out, anyway.”

“I’m not going out on the pull, Robert.”

“I know you’re not,” Robert says, pointedly. He leaves through a few shirts in various shades of black before deciding they’re all too formal. People used to make more effort when he went clubbing regularly, now it’s all jeans and t-shirts, trainers if they can get away with it.

Aaron looks lost and bewildered in their own bedroom.

“Take it off,” Robert says. “Those too while you’re at it.” He waggles his finger at Aaron’s jeans.

“What? There’s definitely nothing wrong with these.”

“You’ve been wearing them all day.”

“So?”

“Take them off.”

Aaron doesn’t budge and it morphs into a stand-off, Robert standing in front of him, hands on hips. The clothes Robert’s collected spread across the duvet, and Robert steps forward, running his hands down Aaron’s arms, the clench of muscle underneath a jumper that’s far too loose. There’s a daring look in Aaron’s eyes which all too easily slips into permission and then Robert’s fingers are under the hem and he’s lifting it up over Aaron’s head and tossing it onto the floor. He exhales, eyes falling on Aaron’s chest. Broad, firm, ragged in frustrated, pissed off and defiant breaths. Robert puts his hands there, feeling the heat.

Aaron’s hands sulk at his hips.

“What?” he says, and Robert says nothing in response.

He rubs his knuckles over Aaron’s belly and for a hot second has a flashback of licking come from its pillowy curve.

He unbuttons Aaron’s fly next, pulls his jeans roughly down his hips and lets them puddle on the floor. Aaron does the rest – the shoes, the socks, kicking the trousers out of tripping distance. Oh yeah, that’s happened.

“These aren’t your pulling pants,” Robert says, teasing. Any excuse. They sit on Aaron’s narrow hips, flapping around his thick set thighs.

He’s annoyed still. Grouchy. But Robert knows there’s a hint of a semi in Aaron’s underwear, some innate reaction to being stripped and manhandled by the nightmare he married. He leans in and kisses Aaron, tongue pressing against his with firm intent. He knows he tastes of pineapple and artificial fruit mixed with too much booze, but it’s set his skin alight.

The kiss transforms. Aaron shifts the power, still pissed off at being marched upstairs and made to change his clothes, and takes control. Robert finds himself walked backwards and landing with a bounce on the bed. He realises afterwards, blinking, that Aaron pushed him there, and that Aaron is now completely naked.

“Quick one,” he says. “Ellis has booked a cab.”

Robert puts his hands on Aaron’s arse and pulls him closer. “How much time we got?”

“Enough,” Aaron says.

There’s something acutely sexy about being trapped underneath Aaron, fully clothed, dick hard and denied release, while Aaron sits on top of him, stark naked, cock in hand. Robert wets his lips and cranes his neck to lick the tip of Aaron’s cock, feeling that electric judder of heat underneath. His groan at the contact swallows up the way he murmurs Aaron’s name and before he has time to think, Aaron’s filling his mouth. Aaron’s grip on his hair should make him irritated that he spent time styling it in the bathroom earlier, but he can’t care, not when Aaron’s doing that delicious shunting, digging motion with his hips. They’ve got this rhythm, this breathing pattern down to a fine art. Robert expects payback later, after the club. He’d have Aaron on his knees taking him to the back of his throat if the club wasn’t going to be full of straight blokes doing coke.

He’s forgotten how good it can feel to rush. To be given a time limit and have a risk of a knock on the door. To chase the idea of being interrupted. Aaron must feel it too, because the tease of one fingertip at his opening is enough to send him over the edge and Robert does everything in his power not to mess up his own shirt with spit and come.

When Aaron’s cleaned up in the bathroom and Robert’s left to reel, flat out on the bed, Aaron finds fresh underwear in the drawer and smirks at an unresponsive Robert.

“You want me to finish you off?”

The sound of the doorbell breaks any illusion. Robert groans.

“Later,” Aaron says. Then irritated again, “What am I wearing?”

“Those,” Robert says, pointing to the jeans that don’t completely hide his arse. “And that.” To the jumper that clings beautifully to his chest.

*

And the club night? As dry and as dull as he expects. Almost. What with Ellis’s miserable face hanging around all night and music he can only bob his head too, it’s not exactly what he’d call a lively night. He gets a glimpse of Bernice and Kerry trying to swerve the attentions of some younger guys at the bar and has a good laugh to himself. The last time he went clubbing with them he was miserable and alone and begrudgingly trying to get a guy’s phone number.

He’s still smiling to himself when he returns to Aaron with a fresh drink.

“What’s so funny?” Aaron says, trying to shout over the music.

They’re at a booth, so he leans in, slinging his arm around the back. This is about as close as he can get in a club like this. Maybe Aaron has a point about gay bars after all.

“I’m just thinking about how different things are since we last went clubbing.”

Aaron rolls his eyes. Robert knows from experience he doesn’t like being reminded of that night, how close Robert came to being with someone else. Except it was never an option, never could be.

“The girls are over there if you want to dance,” Aaron says, pointing.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Aaron gets all soft in the eyes, has to tear his gaze away and starts picking at his beer label. The volume of the song increases so he has to lean in even further. He’s practically shouting in Aaron’s ear.

“We’re married. We’re happy. We’re going to have a baby.”

Aaron grins, then frowns. He’s only caught half of what Robert’s said, so he makes him say it again. Robert’s drunk and happy and delirious and he gets out his phone. First he considers typing it out, but then he has a better idea. He finds his camera roll. The saved photos, one of the baby grows that says:

_Loved by two Superdads_

Aaron’s laughing, shaking his head and touches Robert’s knee that sits between them. The rest of the night might be a write off, but that moment, right there, is the one he’s still thinking about when they drag themselves to bed hours later, ears ringing. He’s happy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to gloss over some of the club stuff as we haven't seen all the flashbacks yet but I hope you still enjoyed it.


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